


Long After the Sting

by JessicaPendragon



Series: Canon Keela Lavellan [35]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anonymous Sex, F/M, post-solavellan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 01:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5111288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaPendragon/pseuds/JessicaPendragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keela tries to move on months after Solas’ disappearance, but nothing will ever be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long After the Sting

She doesn’t know his last name and the honeyed wine on his tongue makes her forget her own for a time. There’s no fighting this ache coiled tightly inside any longer. She doesn’t want to feel so empty and so full of loneliness for another night. She needs and needs and needs and her heart beats against the rusted prison of hurt holding her back until it finally breaks free. She was never meant to be caged.

He pushes her against the wall of his rented room. Strong thick fingers lifting and coaxing her legs around his waist. The breath leaves her lungs as he holds her in place, rushes back in with a gasp as he fills her. It’s been months since anyone even touched her and they both groan to feel her stretch and struggle to remember this dance.

“Damn, you’re so-”

“Please,  _please please_ ,” she begs, desperate, unashamed at how utter want makes her body shudder against his. He is all too happy to oblige and she yells out as his hips snap up and set a punishing pace she cannot get enough of. The slow burning ignites inside her with every thrust and she wishes they had spent the time to remove more than the necessary garments so she could feel the heat of another’s skin on hers. 

He lifts his face to hers, intent on kissing her lips, but she turns her head away. She’s not ready for that intimacy yet as their bodies collide. Whoever he is, he’s a fast enough learner and skims his mouth down her neck, sucking at the juncture of her shoulder with practiced pressure. She wants him to bite down on the flesh there so delicious pain shoots like lightning through her.

 _He_  always knew what she wanted, learned to read the way she moved and strained with more skill than any tome he dared to translate. He could tell when she needed more, where to touch as her voice began to whine higher and higher. He-

“No!” she cries through clenched teeth and bangs her head back against the wood to try and shake loose those strands of thought. _He_ is gone for good and she needs to leave him behind.

Her partner slows at the outburst and glances up at her, concern warring with the heavy lust in his eyes. “Is something-”

“No. I need…just-on the edge of the bed. Now.”

She’s spinning in the air, plummeting to the modest sheets, and never lets her hold on his waist release too much. With only a moment of separation, he slams back inside her and she feels it vibrate through her bones and rattle a low moan from her throat. She is quick to grab his hand that’s leaving dents in her thigh and guides it between her legs. A thankful sigh leaves her mouth to know she at least found someone selfless as his thumb begins to stroke eagerly.

He doesn’t know exactly what she likes, but she doesn’t care. She’s tired of her own touch and the knot inside her is so close to fraying already that it hardly matters after a few seconds. She arches her back into his hand, his length finding a spot inside that makes white flash across her closed lids. Legs quiver as pleasure storms through her veins. Her greedy, needy fingers disappear beneath the hem of her shirt and squeeze her breasts, pinch gently at the peaks standing firm through the fabric of her band. 

There’s only their labored breathing, the protests of the bed, the rage of blood in her ears. And then there’s nothing but sweet release as she explodes, the cleansing flames wiping away every thought and carrying her into oblivion. “Did, did you..?” the man asks between pants and she manages to nod and mutter. He fucks her with abandon in response, chasing her release and searching for his own. His groans become short shouts as his hips roll in erratic motions. With a final yell he pulls out of her and spills into his hand, body shivering and jaw tight. 

She barely notices any of it as she falls down from her high. She expects to feel light, free, yet something is wrong. There is contentment there as every inch of her quivers in the aftermath, but when she rediscovers this stranger between her legs the warm tendrils of her pleasure turn to cold claws. 

When she looks closer to see unknown brown eyes instead of blue ones full of adoration, she knows that these bright, passionate meaningless things will never be enough now. She has tasted pure bliss and it is more than a tangle of limbs. She didn’t know, couldn’t understand. Love was never something to interfere before and she never thought it could bury itself so deep inside that it rips every vital part when you try to pull it out of the way. 

She has been infected with love and it is a venom that lingers long after the sting.

Gods, it’s not  _fair_.

“Hey, are you all right? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until the question floats through the room. Shame and hurt, anger and pain wash away everything else to hear a voice she can’t place taking  _his_ place now. “No, just go.”

“But this is my room?”

“Get out!” She slams her hand into the bed and the mark explodes in a flash of green rage.

“Maker, you’re-”

“Leave!”

“Alright, alright!”

The man shuffles and sighs, slams the door behind him as he escapes. She curls on her side and tries to disappear into a shell of her own making, her quiet tears turning into thunderstorms. She hasn’t cried about his abandonment until now and the knowledge this has finally broken her makes her cry all the harder. 

She was wrong. Love isn’t a weakness. It’s something stronger than any foe she has ever faced and its grip can hurt as much as it saves. She would give anything to be free of it now. 

_What we had was real._

Oh, how she wishes it wasn’t.


End file.
